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Romeo And Juliet And Rainbow Rhythms
“So…I’ll be by sometime this afternoon to inspect Bleak Hall , no big deal, but I’ll… see you there?” The Dean’s manner conveying a mix of reassuring informality, overdoing the approachability somewhat and finally coming off slightly needy. Ford always found the mix endearing, but today the Dean -whether intentionally or not- had him a little worried. The House was something of a mess from the most recent party and he needed time before the formal evaluation of Bleak Hall as an official dormitory of Clearwater Community College. “Oh sure,” He said as casually as he could, which being Ford was actually pretty casual, “I mean… from three I have Dance class with the Rainbow Rhythms and until five pm we’ve got that sexed-up Romeo and Juliet dance recital. We’re shaking things up, kind of exploring the raw sexuality of the piece…” Ford trailed off to watch The Dean’s reaction a bit and noticed his interest was piqued, so figuring he had him hooked he went on. “It’s at the dance studio, it’ll involve…” -C’mon Ford, ratchet it up a little, he thought- “Some buckets of water, that kind of thing. Buckets of water thrown at… me, and the rest of the cast.” “Well,” The Dean said so coyly Ford couldn’t help but be a little charmed. “I can’t make any promises Ford, but since you ask, I’ll try to attend your recital.” The Dean left looking a little flustered, Ford made some calls to let The Irregulars know they had just a few hours to clean up The House, then he finished the radio show and dashed off to Rainbow Rhythms. As he was arriving he saw Janice’s rundown mini cooper pulling into the lot in front of the studio. He raised a hand to wave and she waved too, before parking and going around to the boot to take out her gear. The trunk wouldn’t open and she cursed softly under her breath, a string of syllables Ford had never actually heard combined that way before, he found the word that sprang to mind inspired by her profanity was ‘Pungent’. Ford trotted over with an easy smile, “Hey Janice, two things. One, we’ve got a working Shop in Bleak Hall and do you think you could bring the Mini around there sometime this week so we could practice on this release catch? And two, can I give you a hand right now with the release catch?” She smiled, folding her arms in a manner that wasn’t an aggressively defensive gesture so much as a touch of uncertainty. She shook her head, but she did stand back. Ford reached down, opening his senses to x-ray vision allowing him to see the catch had actually slipped and the trunk door wouldn’t open without snapping it altogether. He concentrated, bringing to bear his telekinesis -The Force, as he insisted on calling it- to gently ease the catch back. His palm flat against the trunk door caused Janice to frown speculatively at what it was he was up to, then she stepped around to try to see, crossing into his field of vision. “Woah, step back, back, out of my field of vision!” He exclaimed mildly, turning his face away from her, muttering something that she could have sworn sounded like “Ack, accidental Porkys!” A moment’s concentration and the catch slipped into place, Ford opened the trunk door for her and handed her her sports bag. “Aw, you’re such a sweetheart Ford,” She said, bumping shoulders with him as they walked in together. Ford grinned and shrugged, thinking that when Janice called him a sweetheart it was oddly without the hint of mockery that would be there if Lana said it. Perhaps as though a sweetheart wasn’t a thing to make fun of in Janice’s view of the world. He filed that away to think more on later. The others were already inside as Ford and Janice entered the studio to walk through it to the changing rooms. Ford realized they’d watched the trunk door incident through the bay windows facing out onto the lot, but it seemed no-one was going to mention it until Bonnie spoke up. “My Hero,” She said dryly, causing Ford to grin her way, not in the least offended. “Well I think it’s sweet,” Mary-Jane said, causing Ford to think: Another non-ironic use of sweet, I’m on fire today. “It is good to take care of one’s fellow dancers,” Ms Ouspenskaya said rather seriously, looking at Ford and the others with her customary imperiousness. Ford went into the changing room and emerged a couple of minutes later in his customary dance clothes: black boxer style high tops -which he openly admitted he wore because he’d seen Leroy wearing them in the movie Fame, and he’d found they were great for dancing in- men’s black dance-pants tucked into them and a light grey tight tank top. Everyone was stretching under Ms Ouspenskaya’s watchful eye. Ford cleared his throat, wincing slightly as he wondered how to put what he had to say. He didn’t really enjoy misdirection, putting spin on things, he didn’t even like to lie by omission. “Hey, uh… Rainbows? I’m in a jam and I could really use all your help. I’ve gotta keep The Dean distracted until five PM and I… promised him a sexed-up interpretation of Romeo and Juliet was going to be happening here today. With uh, buckets of water. I probably gave him the impression it would be a lot of buckets of water.” He looked over them all, taking note of their reactions only for a millisecond before continuing. “Look, I love to dance, I wouldn’t be here all the time if that wasn’t the case. And I love dancing with you all. If I didn’t honestly think we could do something cool here, I’d go off and find some other way to distract The Dean. I mean… it wouldn’t be pretty but I’d think of something.” He smiled just the tiniest rueful smile at the end, causing a few of them to smile back, some in spite of themselves. “What do you say? Do you think we could -in the next forty five minutes, because we’ve got to start by four- cook up something cool, kind of sexed-up and also genuinely worthwhile?” He stopped talking, just looking over the bunch of them. Ms Ouspenskaya was silent, waiting for the class’s reaction, seemingly watching them more than Ford. “Well I love it,” Mary-Jane said, breaking the silence. Vivian nodded emphatically. “I think it’ll be fun, I look forward to seeing Ford in a wet tank top and I honestly think it’s artistically viable.” “Well, I owe you one, Porky, so I’m in,” Janice said to Ford with a smile and a shrug, causing him to smile in a manner that was almost apologetic, he even remembered how the old Ford would have blushed furiously but the apologetic quality came from his realizing that he was far less susceptible to blushing these days. “Oh, hey Ford,” Tippi said, turning for the first time from gazing out the window and giving Ford a sweet smile. She looked around at the others, gauging from their expressions what was going on. Ford raised his eyebrows encouragingly, which was all the clue she needed. “Oh, count me in,” She said without hesitation. “How about it, Bonnie?” Ford asked gently. Bonnie glared at him, shoulders set, arms folded, then scuffed her foot against the ground, shrugging. “Don’t make me look like an asshole, okay?” Jessica, the last of the group, finally spoke. “Am I the only person who wants more than to facilitate Ford’s adventures, making a mockery of dance along the way?” Ford took a few steps closer to Jessica, his expression more serious now. “Jessica, I’m sorry I’ve always got something going on, I know that’s how I am. But I promise you this class means something to me -” She cut him off “Yes, yes, now you’ll be so sincere that we’ll all just fall in line and do whatever it was you had planned to have us do from the start. You’ll give an enigmatic, mildly apologetic smile that gets our pulses racing and makes us light-headed until we’re compliant, then the buckets of water, yes?” Ford’s eyebrows raised mildly, he was actually quite flattered by her tirade but chose not to express that just this moment. “I really don’t like to lie or be misleading Jessica, I know I have all these angles, but that much is always true. Look, if you’ll just be a part of this for me, at the end you can judge whether this was a mockery of what we do here, whether it was a glib way to get what I want and nothing else, or if maybe somewhere in all this we found some real art, something beautiful. If you find it’s the former, just say the word and I’ll respect your decision, you can tell me to walk away from Rainbow Rhythms and no matter what the others say, no matter what the faculty says, I’ll go.” As he was speaking he realized how much this outlet had come to mean to him. He really loved to dance, loved the freedom, the joy of movement that was so close to the violent movements he excelled at but was instead something peaceful, even beautiful. Perhaps Jessica realized it too, because she nodded and went to her bag, taking out a battered copy of Romeo and Juliet, holding it ready for reference. Ford was genuinely moved by her gesture, he became quietly verklempt for a moment and just stood still until it passed, as always unembarrassed. “Ok. I’ve got some casting ideas in mind already. Jessica? Want to play this to the hilt and bring some real grace to the Prince of Cats himself, Tybalt?” Jessica even cracked the slightest of smiles, quickly suppressed, before agreeing. “Vivian, you’re my Mercutio today, is that okay with you? Good! Janice, loyal Benvolio? Mary-Jane, I think you’d make a very warm Friar, what do you think? Great! Tippi? … Tippi? Hi Tippi, yeah, you feel like taking the part of Juliet’s confidante, the nurse? Thank you! And Bonnie…Will you be Juliet? Please?” Bonnie scowled at Ford accusingly, for a moment half the room wondered if she was going to launch on a stream of accusations that Ford just wanted to feel her up while she was soaking wet, if possible her posture and facial expression were conveying all that. “You really think we can do this?” She asked, grimly but with a touch of interest. “We can,” Ford said with a calm certainty that did not for a moment conceal his boundless optimism and enthusiasm. With that it was sealed, Ms Ouspenskaya guided them through a combination of several pieces they had all worked on together before, cobbling together an expressive story that followed in brush strokes the major points of the play. By the time they were ready, The Dean was right there, leaning in the doorway with an expression of ill-feigned casual benevolence that somehow expressed his prurient interest more eloquently than a leer. The recital began. Ford’s Romeo was infused with Ford’s own boundless Hope, brash and confident, irrepressible, emblematic of the energy of youth and young lovers. Bonnie’s Juliet was a revelation: achingly vulnerable, courageously so, utterly undaunted by the threat of heartbreak or humiliation. Fiercely vulnerable, Ford thought of her during the performance. Jessica’s Tybalt was magnificent, indeed as graceful as a cat, as proud and as cold. She managed to capture the nobility of the character too though, something deeply romantic in her portrayal of the doomed Tybalt. When there were duels or reversals or moments of drama, on would come the buckets of water. When Romeo first saw Juliet, that was the first use of water. Ms Ouspenskaya and Mary-Jane threw two buckets over Ford so that it seemed Romeo was struck by a sudden storm upon first seeing his true love. As he wiped water from his eyes, never missing a beat of the dance, it created an impression of clearing his eyes in disbelief, moved beyond reason by the sight of Juliet, doubting his own eyes. As Tybalt and Mercutio fought they were both dashed with water, creating an impression of the ebb and flow of combat, when Tybalt advanced on Mercutio, Mercutio was beaten back by Tybalt’s advance and also by bucket after bucket of water. When Romeo went to intercede and stop the fight between Tybalt and Mercutio, it caused the three of them to rotate, positioning Mercutio all the better to be struck from both sides by buckets of water in the moment Mercutio’s blade made the kill. Whenever Romeo and Juliet embraced they would be buffeted on all sides by buckets of water as they spun slowly, creating a sense of tempest, of the lovers persecuted by the very elements themselves. Even the water’s revealing effect on their costumes served to call to mind the poignant vulnerability of the young lovers, how very unprotected they were from the storms of fate. In the final death scene, Romeo’s despair on discovering the body of Juliet -drugged but believed by Romeo to be dead- was so powerfully expressive that those watching felt a shiver of animal sorrow just watching him. He lay beside her, a terrible weariness replacing the youthful vigour of his earlier self, buckets of water drenching him from various angles, his movements slowing as though the water was the despair draining the last of his strength. He took the poison, lay on his side beside Juliet, placing his head on her shoulder, resting there as he died. Juliet woke with a smile of surprised joy to find Romeo beside her in the crypt, which quickly turned to horrified anguish as she realized he was dead. She shook him, slapped his face but he was utterly still. The water came from different sides until all could see the moment she knew he was gone, marked by a terrible onslaught of buckets of cold water, like the empty, wintry feeling of loss itself. She leaned over him and kissed his lips with a final passionate gesture. Then in a moment of dazzling improvisation she used her hand to scoop up some of the water that had pooled in the hollow of his throat now that he was lying on his back, put it to her mouth and drank greedily -casting the water as poison-, draping her upper body over his as she drew her last breaths. There was a moment’s silence as the performance ended, before the Dean’s high-pitched cry of “Ford!” broke the silence as he ran to check on the worringly convincing Ford’s apparent corpse. Ford sat up slowly, gently bringing Bonnie with him, smiled sweetly at The Dean, mutely thanking him for his concern. He looked first for Jessica, whose stricken expression he almost interpreted as her sadness at having to banish him from the group, until he realized she had been crying at the performance’s conclusion. She met his eyes, her own still wet with tears and nodded, giving him all the answer he needed. He stood, offering Bonnie a hand to help her up-which to his surprise she took- then making his way over towards The Dean and Ms Ouspenskaya in time to hear her say: “Dean, when he walked through that door, I did not see the dancer that stands beside me now. He is truly a Rainbow Warrior.” Ford stood straight and proud at those words of praise, rather moved by them. “Thank you all so much for this,” Ford said to the class, The Dean interpreting this as Ford being magnanimous about the performance but the dancers and teacher of Rainbow Rhythms knew he meant exactly what he said.